


The Curve Of An Arrow

by Loeka



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Crossdressing, F/F, Female Robin Hood, Gen, Gender Issues, Non-Binary Robin Hood, Self-Indulgent, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-02-12 13:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loeka/pseuds/Loeka
Summary: Robin of Locksley is born a girl.This changes surprisingly little.





	1. Chapter 1

Women cannot inherit. Not truly. They can hold titles and property in name of their future husband and sons, but they cannot claim them for their own. They cannot be a Lord’s heir.

When the midwife bring his newborn child and tells him his beloved Elaine has succumbed to bleeding, Malcolm knows he'll never have another child. He'll never be able to bring himself to replace Elaine.

And women cannot be a Lord’s heir.

Malcolm, Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntingdon, declares his son to be named Robin. The midwife is paid generously for her silence. She is given the position as Robin’s dry nurse to ensure she keeps her silence.

It’s for the best. By making her Robin’s primary caretaker, none other need take part in the deception.

So Robin grows up a boy. He plays and learns, is taught all the things expected of a future Earl. He thinks himself normal. Thinks himself a boy.

Robin is seven when he learns he is a girl instead.

* * *

 

When he is older, Robin will look back on this moment and realize just how fortunate it was he found out like this.

Robin is playing hide-and-seek with the other children in the village. He and Thomas have hidden himself beneath some shrubberies and they have hidden well. So well, in fact, that they aren’t found for quite some time.

In that time, Thomas has to use the privy.

Seeing as neither of them wish to lose the game, Thomas relieves himself in the bushes. He cannot leave without risking being spotted, after all.

It takes some wriggling for Thomas to get into a position where he will not soil the ground they are laying on. He does so by crawling away a little, before he rolls to his side.

Robin is curious. He cannot relieve himself like that without soiling himself. How can Thomas?

It is _extremely_ improper to watch people relieve themselves. Robin knows this, but he is also very curious how Thomas is able to do this.

He asks Thomas if he can watch. If Thomas gives permission, watching him is no longer impolite. Robin thinks. He hopes.

He will have to ask Father later on.

His question makes Thomas give him a strange look, which Robin supposes he deserves. But Thomas also gives permission.

Robin crawls closer and is met with a most curious sight. Beneath his breeches, Thomas doesn't look the same as he does. He doesn't look the same at all.

How strange, Robin thinks. Strange and curious. But he doesn't ask Thomas about the difference. While watching someone go to the privy is incredibly improper, asking about it is _much_ worse. Father and Nanna have forbidden speaking of naked bodies with anyone other than themselves, and even then he can ask only when they are alone.

Robin decides to keep his questions to himself until the game is over.

He wins, of course.

After returning home, he waits until he is alone with Nanna to satisfy his curiosity.

Nanna doesn't answer his questions. She says she needs to speak with Father first. Robin doesn’t like that, but he resigns himself to being patient. When Nanna doesn’t wish to tell him something, nothing he does or say can make her reconsider.

His patience is rewarded the next evening. Father takes him to his room and locks the door. Which is a little strange but not much. Robin must always lock the door when he takes off his clothes, and since he wishes to talk of naked bodies, he supposes it only makes sense to lock the door this time as well.

Father sits down next to him, takes a deep breath, and he explains the differences between boys and girls.

Robin is very confused by this. He has always known he is a boy. Except now Father is telling him he is a girl. This fact is made even more confusing by Father insisting he is a boy after all, for everyone thinks he is a boy, and so he is a boy. Except he is actually a girl, except no one can know he is a girl, everyone must keep thinking he is a boy, despite the fact that he is actually a girl. She is a girl?

Robin is _very_ confused.

When Robin asks Nanna about this, the only other person who knows he – she? – is a girl – except he is a boy? – Nanna explains things much better than Father did.

Robin is a _secret_ girl.

Robin understands secrets. Secrets are things you’re not allowed to tell other people no matter what. Like when Father called Sir Keith a spineless toad of a whoreson and then told Robin to never tell anyone he said that because _it’s a secret, Robin_. Or like when Angelica gives him an extra pudding if he promises not to tell anyone because _it’ll be our little secret, young master_.

Robin is a secret girl and so he cannot let anyone know he is a girl. And if he cannot let people know he is a girl, then he must be called a boy instead. A person must be a boy or a girl, after all.

Robin is quite pleased to be confused no longer. Secrets are easy to understand.

Nanna tells Robin he should think of himself as a boy. He might call himself a girl otherwise and that would ruin the secret. Robin understands and promises to do his best to keep thinking of himself as a boy.

This isn’t difficult to do. Robin has always thought of himself as a boy and it is far stranger to think of himself as a girl instead. Even if he is a secret girl.

Being a secret girl does cause him to pay more attention to girls. He always knew they learned different things than boys did, but now he tries to imagine what it would be like if he was a girl instead of a secret girl. He would like to learn embroidery, he thinks. It looks very pretty. But girls aren’t allowed to fight, and that is something Robin wouldn't enjoy at all. He likes fighting. He likes it very much. Which means it is a good thing that he is a secret girl instead of a girl, for it lets him fight as much as he pleases.

That is all the thought Robin spares on the matter. Most of the time, he doesn’t even remember that he is a secret girl instead of a boy.

It’s not as though it changes anything.

* * *

 

When Robin is eight, he falls in love.

Father laughs when he tells him so, which Robin finds most offensive. Even worse, Father claims he doesn’t yet know what love is! Robin _does_ know, for what he is feeling makes him breathless and lightheaded, it makes him giddy with joy, makes him feel as though he can take on the entire world! Is that now what love is?

Father claims the kind of love he speaks of is reserved for people only. Robin thinks that is ridiculous. He loves archery with all his heart, and nothing Father or anyone else says will ever be able to change that. He loves it from the moment he shoots his first arrow and he will keep loving it till his dying breath.

So he practices, more than he has ever done in his entire life. He practices until his fingers are blistered, practices until his arms are shaking, practices until he aches as he has never ached before. Then he practices some more.

Everyone says he is very good at archery, but Robin is very good at, well, everything. He doesn’t want to be very good at archery as well.

He wants to be _the best_.

And soon, he is! He’s the best shot in the entire village! Aside from Father of course.

But Robin doesn’t stop practicing. He doesn’t wish to be the best shot in the village, he wishes to be the best shot in all of England, the whole world even! Seeing as Father can hit a running rabbit at over a hundred paces, Robin will have to practice a lot more still before he is the best.

This prospect pleases him greatly.

* * *

 

When Robin is nine, he almost kills a man.

No, that isn’t true.

He almost kills two men.

He didn’t mean to hit the fire wheel! If stupid Guy just let him do as he pleased, he would've made the shot. He would have hit the lantern.

Instead, Guy takes his arrow, and in the time it takes Robin to grab Guy’s own and shoot the lantern anyway, the wheel has already been lifted too high.

The wheel ignites and the rain of embers causes William and Father Swain to release the rope.

The wheel crushes Father Swain.

Robin has never known fear as he does then. It's a blind terror that makes him throw his bow to the side without even realizing he has done so, for he can do nothing but listen to Father Swain’s cries of pain.

For a single moment, Robin wishes he had never fired that first arrow.

Father and others rush to save Father Swain and Robin knows he should help them but he cannot move, is frozen in place, eyes locked onto Father Swain and Father Swain is no longer screaming but the silence is so much worse, what if he stopped because he can no longer breathe, what if stopped because he’s dead?

What if Robin killed him?

Then there are villagers all around him, rushing forward and Robin is rushing forward as well, is suddenly near enough to hear Father Swain breathe and it should be reassuring but it isn’t because Father Swain is gasping for air, a wet, gurgling sound that reminds Robin of when Philip had fallen into the river and been caught by the current, his frantic struggles to get to land except Philip failed, he drowned, he died and Father Swain cannot die, he _cannot_.

Robin cannot have killed him.

“Well who was it then?”

“It wasn’t me!” Robin only realizes he has spoken after the denial has already fallen from his lips but he’s not lying, he’s _not_. Father Swain is still breathing so he is still alive, which means Robin _didn’t_ kill him.

“Of course it wasn’t you, master Robin. Would you fire at your own father?”

“No, I swear!” Once more, Robin speaks without thought. It’s the truth though, he would never fire at Father. Why would Longthorn even ask that?

“He’s the one who fired the arrow that caused the priest’s injuries.” Longthorn’s words cause blind terror to overtake all else because it’s true, Robin did – “He’s a murderer!”

Robin blinks with confusion. Why is Longthorn pointing at Guy? And why is everyone aside from Father and Ghislaine agreeing?

Only when Longthorn yanks the arrow out of the wheel does Robin realizes what is happening.

They think Guy fired the arrow. Guy, not Robin.

Robin knows he should speak up, should tell the truth of what really happened. Lying is a sin and good men do not sin.

He keeps quiet. He doesn’t want to. He wants to speak up, wants to reveal the truth. Yet for some reason, he cannot find his voice.

And suddenly tears are rising, impossible to contain because Father has disappeared with Father Swain and Robin is alone and he wishes Nanna were here except he also doesn’t because she would be so disappointed in him and Father would be so ashamed and this is all his fault, he never should have tried to shoot the lantern, should have just waited until the wheel was in place –

“Hang him!”

The shout draws his attention back his surroundings. He sees first with confusion then with rising horror that Warin is tying a rope into a noose, and Peter and William are dragging Guy forward and Guy is – is doing nothing. Why is he doing nothing, why isn’t he trying to free himself, why doesn’t he tell the truth, he needs to tell the truth because they’re going to hang him because of what Robin did and he needs to stop this from happening –

“Stop! Stop, he didn’t do it!”

And then Robin is pulling at Peter and William, is trying to make them release Guy because Guy is innocent, he doesn’t deserve to be punished for what Robin did and –

“Let go of me!” Robin struggles against the hands pulling him back but they’re too strong, he cannot break free no matter how hard he tries except he must break free because he has to save Guy –

“Master Robin, calm yourself!” The words make him cease his struggles. Longthorn is right, he must calm himself.

He must tell them the truth.

“I did it.” Robin is surprised by how easily the words come. Why hadn't it been this easy before? “I shot the arrow.”

And he is so, so sorry he did. He wishes he hadn’t, wishes he could go back to that moment and snatch the arrow out of his hands himself.

He cannot go back. Cannot undo his mistake.

What he can do, is ensure Guy doesn’t pay for it.

“Master Robin, you don’t need to take the blame for this murderer.”

Robin looks up at Longthorn with confusion? What does he mean by that? He’s not taking the blame, he’s telling the truth.

Longthorn’s next words make that question fly out of his mind.

“Those who break the law must be punished.”

Robin bites down his lip and feels himself start to tremble, before he clenches his fists and lifts his chin, determined not to show how frightened he is. Longthorn is right. Robin broke the law and so he must be punished. That is what it means to a good man and there is nothing more important than being a good man. Father taught him that.

“And those who dare to take the life of a priest, those who dare to murder one of the Lord’s own servants, must repent by paying with their own life.”

Robin sucks in a sharp breath and feels his trembles turn to shakes, tears rising no matter how hard he tries to contain them because he doesn’t want to die but he also killed – no, he didn’t. Father Swain is still alive because Father took him away to care for him, which means Father will save him, so Robin _isn’t_ a murderer.

He didn’t kill Father Swain.

Robin opens his mouth to say just than when he realizes Longthorn isn’t talking to him. He’s not even talking about him. Longthorn is talking about Guy.

Longthorn still wants to hang Guy.

Why? Robin is the one who killed – injured, he _injured_ Father Swain. He told everyone it was him, so why do they still want to hang Guy?

“Why are you punishing Guy? I’m the one who shot the arrow!” he repeats and then something happens that has never happened before.

Robin is ignored. He is so confused by this that for several moments, he can do nothing but stand by as Guy continues to be held captive and Longthorn continues to speak of the mortal sin of murdering a man of the cloth. When he regain his wits, Robin repeats himself.

Once more, he is ignored. So he repeats himself again. And again, and again, and _again_.

Why aren't they listening to him? Nobles sometimes don’t listen to him but the villagers always do. They always do as he says.

Except now they don’t. Now they shush him, now they pull him back when he tries to get to Guy, now they say he should stop talking, now they are _not doing as he says_.

They’re going to hang Guy.

The moment Robin realizes that he won’t be able to stop this from happening, he runs.

The villagers refuse to do as he says. But they’ll do as Father says.

Robin runs to the manor as fast he can, bursting through the door and yelling for Father – he freezes.

Father Swain is wheezing, choking, is barely breathing and Robin thought he would be better now but he isn’t, he’s _worse_ and he’s going to die and it will all be Robin’s fault – Ghislaine stabs Father Swain. Robin has no time to be confused by this, is overwhelmed by relief as Father Swain gasps for air, a breath deeper and stronger than any that came before, and Ghislaine is telling Father Swain to breathe and Father Swain is listening, is breathing so much better than before, he’s alright now, everything is alright –

They’re going to hang Guy.

“Father, they’re going to hang Guy!”

For a moment, Father doesn’t move. Then he vows to put a stop to this and is running out the door, and Robin is running after him, is so relieved because Father will save Guy and that Father Swain is alright, Robin didn’t kill him and Guy will be saved and everything is alright now.

Except it isn’t alright. The villagers don’t do as Father says either, something Robin didn't know was possible. Even though Father orders them to stop, even though he is showing the cold anger Robin only sees when Father dispenses justice, the villagers _still_ don’t obey him, and then Father is reaching for his sword and everything is wrong, this shouldn’t be happening and Robin needs to do something, needs to help Father except he doesn’t know how –

“Stop! I command you to stop!”

And then there is a Knight who orders them to stop in the name of the King, and the Knight is Guy’s father and then Longthorn is attacking but the Knight and Father stop him, and now the villagers are doing as they’re told, now they are releasing Guy and then Ghislaine is there, saying that Father Swain will live and Robin almost starts crying again because he’s still so scared even though he shouldn’t be because everything is finally alright and he’s so happy that Father Swain will live and Guy will not be punished for his mistake. He's so happy everything is finally alright.

Isn’t it?

* * *

 

He tells Nanna what he did.

Robin doesn’t mean to tell her, it just happens. One moment Nanna is helping him get ready for bed and the next words are tumbling from his lips without control. As he continues to speak, tears start falling down again, which is ridiculous and stupid. Not only are men not supposed to cry but everything is alright now. There's no reason for his tears.

This fact doesn't stop him from crying.

Then Nanna is hugging him and humming soothingly, which just makes Robin cry even harder and he's clutching at Nanna because he feels so scared and guilty and he cries like a baby and it is embarrassing and painful and he cannot bring himself to stop.

He cries for a very long time. When he finally stops, he feels so embarrassed by his behavior, but he also feels much better than before. He feels even better when Nanna smiles at him.

He’s still frightened.

“You’re not mad?” he whispers, so scared the answer will be yes.

“No, Robin, I’m not mad,” Nanna says while drying his cheeks. It makes his lips tremble and his tears return, no matter how ridiculous that is. Nanna isn’t mad after all.

This time Robin manages to contain his tears.

“You did something very wrong and I’m disappointed that you did.”

Robin bites down his lip, a sniffle escaping him. He knew Nanna would be disappointed in him but hearing it out loud is so much worse. He hates it when Nanna is disappointed in him.

“But you also tried your best to fix your mistake, and for that I'm very proud of you.”

Robin sucks in a sharp breath, hope overwhelming all else.

“You are?” he whispers, and feels even more hopeful when Nanna smiles.

“I am. I’m very, very proud,” she says while caressing his cheek, still smiling at him. Robin gives a trembling smile back. Then he bursts into tears once more.

Nanna holds him close and hums his favorite song and it is wonderful. Nanna might be disappointed in him but she is also proud of him. She is _very_ proud of him. Robin loves it when Nanna is proud of him.

As he continues crying, Robin makes a silent vow. Should he do something wrong again, he will always try his best to fix it.

He will always do all he can to correct his mistakes.

* * *

 

He tells Father what he did as well. Unlike with Nanna, this decision is deliberate.

He has been thinking of telling Father the entire day. He knows he has to tell, but Father... Father is in a strange mood. He is distant and sad, and Robin fears it is because of what happened yesterday. He fears even more it is because Father already knows what Robin did.

Yet even if he doesn't already know what Robin did, Robin still has to tell him. Nanna said he should.

Robin tells him when they are visiting Mother.

It is difficult to do so. It is so very difficult. But Mother is watching and Robin thinks she will be disappointed in him if he didn’t tell. And if Mother is disappointed, Father will be as well. Father loves Mother very much.

So he tells Father. He doesn’t dare to look at Father as he does, so scared he will see Father look at him with shame. But when Father lays a hand on his shoulder, Robin cannot help but lift his gaze.

Father is not looking at him with shame. He’s looking at him with disappointment.

And suddenly Robin is telling him everything. He tells Father how he didn’t mean to lie, he was just scared. Tells him how he tried to confess the truth and how the villagers didn’t listen, how he tried to save Guy but he just wasn’t strong enough.

He tells Father how sorry his is for hurting Father Swain.

When Robin stops talking, Father is silent for a very long time. Then he lets out a deep sigh and pulls him close. He tells Robin that he is disappointed in him for doing something so wrong. But he is also proud that Robin tried to take responsibility for hurting Father Swain. He's proud that Robin tried to save Guy.

He tells Robin that is what a good Lord does. He takes responsibility when he does something wrong.

He tells Robin that he shouldn’t stand by and let something terrible happen just because he’s too scared to do the right thing.

Robin swears he won’t ever make the same mistake again, swears to always do the right thing. He swears he will be a good Lord.

Father smiles and tightens his embrace. He doesn’t mention Robin tears.

Once again, Robin cries for a long time. Once again, he feels both embarrassed and much better than before.

When he finally manages to stop crying, he wipes his cheeks, takes a deep breath, and repeats his promise, firm and strong.

He will always do the right thing. He will always be a good Lord.

No matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

When Robin is nine, Father dies.

He dies in a blaze of fire. He dies because Robin is prevented from going after him. He dies because Robin fails to save him.

He dies because of Guy.

Robin _hates_ Guy. He wishes Guy had died in the fire instead, wishes he had never even been born. He’s glad when Guy is banished. He hopes Guy dies before he manages to reach France. Father would have been mad at him for thinking that, but Father is gone.

He’s gone because of Guy.

Then Longthorn tries to take Father’s lands for himself, so Robin grabs Father’s bow and banishes him from the village as well because he will not allow Longthorn to claim Father’s lands for his own. These lands belong to Father, these people belong to Father, and Robin _will_ protect them.

They’re the only thing of Father he has left.

Except that isn’t true. He has Father’s bed which still smells like him, his desk where he worked at every evening. Still has his clothes, his journals, his sword.

He still has Father’s bow.

Yet all those things do nothing but make him cry. They do nothing but remind him that Father is gone. Even Father’s bow is too painful to use after that first day. No matter how much Robin wishes it wasn’t.

Caring for Father’s lands and people is the only thing that doesn’t hurt. There is something soothing in talking to the villagers and helping them with their problems. He cannot solve all of them, but he can solve most, and even when he cannot solve them completely, he can still help.

Like offering Daniel and Mary the use of the manor after a storm destroys their home, letting them stay in the servant’s quarters until Dan finishes building them a new one. Or paying Margaret’s tithes from his own coffers after Stacius dies from illness, leaving her a widow heavy with child, unable to make ends meet while also paying her dues.

Robin likes caring for Father’s people. It is difficult, very difficult, but Thornton and Father Swain help him, teaching him all the things a Lord must know. Robin knew some of it already of course, but there are many things he has yet to learn.

There are many things Father was supposed to teach him still.

The thought is enough to make him want to cry. He doesn’t, contains his tears until he is alone. People didn’t mind when he cried at first, but now everyone is telling him he must contain his tears. He is an Earl now, which means he is no longer a boy. He is a man, and men are strong. They don’t cry.

No matter how much Father’s absence still hurts.

Robin knows Father isn’t truly gone. He has joined Mother in Heaven. He still watches over Robin.

It’s not the same. Father is no longer with him, and knowing he still watches over Robin in Heaven does nothing to make his absence on Earth hurt any less. It does nothing to lessen his desire to cry.

Nanna is the only one who doesn’t say he should stop crying. Not when they are alone. She just holds him close and hums soothing songs. Robin is so very grateful for that.

He tries to keep his tears contained, he truly does. He just doesn’t manage to succeed. He can contain his tears until he is alone or with Nanna, but then they always burst free. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to change that.

Except, eventually, it does change. The urge to cry lessens, and it starts becoming easier to contain his tears even when he is alone.

It starts hurting less that Father is no longer with him.

One day, Robin picks up Father’s bow and it almost doesn’t hurt. It hurts a little more when he shoots an arrow with it, but not by much.

Mostly it’ss comforting. It feels like Father is still with him. Feels like he is standing right besides him instead of being in Heaven.

From that moment on, Robin never uses any bow but Father’s.

* * *

 

When Robin is twelve, he is brutally reminded of the fact that he is also a she.

He’s been suffering from extremely painful cramps for the past two days, and Robin fears he has become dangerously ill. When he wakes in the middle of the night to the discovery that he is _bleeding_ , he rushes to Nanna’s room in a blind panic, convinced he is about to die.

He is not about to die. Nanna explains that this is normal for women. This is what they mean by Eve’s curse.

She says that from now on, Robin will experience this every few weeks for _most of his life_. The thought alone is enough to make Robin want to cry. For the first time, he wishes he was a normal boy.

He and Nanna go back to his room so Robin can change out of his soiled night clothes and Nanna can wash them before anyone else wakes. She also scrubs the linens until the stains no longer looks like blood, meaning they can let the staff clean them without suspicion.

Nanna explains the different ways women use to prevent the blood from staining their clothes. The easiest way is to place rags inside their stockings to catch the blood. Or in his case, inside his trousers. However, with rags, there is a great risk of stains. Cotton or blood moss works much better. Another method is to use a small stick wrapped in cotton, inserting it inside themselves so the blood is caught before it leaves their bodies.

This last makes Robin feel vaguely ill, so disturbed by the thought of putting something _inside_ himself. But given that this method also holds the least risk of staining his clothes, he has no choice but to use it.

It is _extremely_ uncomfortable to have those things inside himself, and Robin takes out his frustration by demolishing a target with the sheer number of arrows he puts into it. This is not enough to calm him by far, so Robin decides to ignore his responsibilities for the day and goes into the woods, hunting down four rabbits and two pheasants. He keeps one pheasant for himself and gives the rest to the villagers. It makes them happy, but for once, this doesn’t make Robin feel better. He hurts, he feels uncomfortable and dirty. He feels ill at ease with his own body in a way he never has before.

Robin is overjoyed when the bleeding finally fades. For a short while, everything returns to normal. Then the bleeding returns and he must put those awful things himself once more. They are just as uncomfortable the second time. And the third time as well.

The fourth time, they no longer feel quite so uncomfortable. The fifth time they are even less uncomfortable. By the sixth time, Robin has gotten used to them.

He hasn’t gotten used to the pain. He is convinced he never will. While only the first two days of bleeding hurt, those two days are excruciating. It is a pain unlike anything else. The closest he can think to compare it to, is having something press down harshly on a bruise. Except it’s his insides that are bruised and that somehow makes the feeling a hundred time worse at the very _least_.

It is _awful_.

Robin now understands why women’s bleeding is called a curse. What he does not understand is why God would inflict this curse upon all women. Surely enough time has passed since the Fall that the curse might be lifted?

When he tells Nanna so, she chuckles and explains why the Lord inflicts such hardship on women. It’s not to punish them, it’s to prepare them for the trial of giving birth. Apparently, giving birth is a _great_ deal more painful still, and without the bleeding, women would not be strong enough to bring their children onto the Earth.

Robin is horrified at the knowledge that the pain of bleeding is but a fraction of the pain of labour. Why would the Lord punish women so? Creating life is supposed to be a wonder, not a torment.

Once again, Nanna tells him it isn’t a punishment. It’s a trial. Life is precious beyond compare, and so they must prove to the Lord that they are worthy of this priceless gift. Robin isn’t fully convinced that this explanation is true, but he supposes he has no choice but to accept Nanna’s words. It’s not as though he can ask Father Swain about this subject.

Nanna gives him a sad smile and tells him he doesn’t need to worry about the pains of labour. Robin will never be able to have children, after all.

This fact hits him with the force of an anvil.

He will never have children. Of course he won’t, he will never be able to marry and that means he cannot have children. Robin... Robin already knew he can never marry, of course. No one had told him, but given that spouses see each other unclothed, he’d realized long ago that marriage isn’t possible for him.

He just hadn’t thought of what that would mean for his future family. Or rather, his lack of future family.

It hurts to know he will never have children. He had always assumed that he would. He hadn’t thought of how he would have children, but he just... he's always assumed that one day he would have children of his own.

Except he won’t. He will never have children. He’ll never have anyone to pass his lands to. After his death, they will return to the Sheriff.

They will no longer belong to Father.

For the first time, Robin hates his body. He hates that he is a woman as well as a man.

That hate never truly disappears. It simmers every time he bleeds and he is reminded that he will never be able to have a family of his own. That one day, these lands will no longer belong to Father. It churns when his body starts to change, making it impossible to deny that he is not a normal man whenever he takes his clothes off.

It makes him avoid looking at his own body as much he can. Makes him uncomfortable in his own skin in a way Robin cannot put into words.

It makes him feel as though there is something wrong with him.

Marian of Knighton changes that.

* * *

 

Robin is fifteen when he first takes notice of Marian of Knighton.

He already knew her before then, of course. She’s the Sheriff’s daughter, he has known her since she was a babe. But he paid no particular attention to her. She was just one of the many Noble children he knew.

This changes one day in Nottingham.

The Council of Nobles is meeting, and Robin is late. Which means he is running through the castle, taking a shortcut through the servants corridors. Everything about this, from running to taking to the servant corridors, is incredibly improper to do, but given the circumstances, Robin cares even less for propriety than he usually does.

As he comes to a split, he halts in frustration, unable to remember which way he is supposed to go. While he uses the servant corridors more than any other Noble, he doesn’t use them often enough to know all their twists and turns by far.

In hindsight, taking this shortcut wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

Hearing a muffled thump from a nearby storage room, he quickly rushes towards it so he can ask the servant inside for directions.

The person inside is not a servant. It’s Marian of Knighton. And she is swinging a wooden sword around.

This is unexpected.

Marian drops the sword the instant she spots him, terrified eyes meeting his own. Robin doesn’t like it when people fear him, so he tries to think of something to say to reassure her.

“Your footing is wrong.” As soon as he realizes what he has said, Robin grimaces. That’s not exactly reassuring.

It still works. Sort of works. Marian’s fear is replaced by confusion, which Robin finds a definite improvement.

“What?” she asks, and seeing as she is no longer afraid of him, Robin decides to continue with this subject.

“Your footing. Your feet are too close together when you swing the sword. You need to widen your stance, otherwise you’ll be thrown off balance when parrying.” Though given her outfit, it’s normal that her footing is wrong. Her skirts are bunched up around her hips, and the sheer amount of fabric prevents her from being able to maneuver well.

Marian frowns and opens her mouth, but she closes it without saying anything. In the silence that follows, Robin remembers that he is late and lost.

“Do you know the way to the Great Hall?” he asks. Marian turns even more confused at his question. Robin shifts his weight with growing impatience as he waits for her to answer.

She doesn’t answer.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, he turns to leave.

“Never mind.” He’ll just have to pick a direction at random and hope for the best.

“Wait!” Marian’s shout makes him turn back, hopeful he might get directions after all. “You... you aren’t going to tell?”

Those are not directions.

“Tell what?” he asks with confusion, before realizing that is a rather stupid question. The answer is obvious. “Oh, you mean,” he says with a nod at the wooden sword, and gives Marian a reassuring smile when she bites down her lip with returning fear. “No, I won’t tell. You really do need to work on your footing, though. And you lock your wrist when you swing. You need to keep it loose, you’ll hurt yourself otherwise.”

Marian continues to worry her lip. While she doesn’t seem as terrified as before, she’s still afraid. While Robin would like to reassure her further, he really does need to go. He turns to leave.

“Wait.”

Robin turns around and raises an impatient brow. He needs to go.

Marian hesitates, making him let out an annoyed sigh and turn to leave again.

This is when Marian speaks up at last.

“Take right at the first and second split, and left at the third. The second door on the right leads to the Great Hall.”

When Robin realizes he has gained directions after all, he feels a large smile grow.

“Thank you, Lady Marian,” he says while bowing with flourish, before wasting no further time and racing to the Great Hall.

Unsurprisingly, his late arrival is greeted with great disapproval. Normally Robin wouldn’t care about that, but seeing as he wishes to gain a reprieve on this year’s taxes after the harsh winter they suffered, he needs all the good will he can get.

Fortunately – well, not fortunately, but his own request is helped by the fact that all have been hit hard by the cold. He’s not the only Lord by far who petitions for a reprieve on taxes.

When Sheriff Edward agrees to lower taxes, with the condition they recover the lost profit next year, Robin breathes out a sigh of relief. The condition does mean the following year will be lean as well, no matter how well the harvest goes, but that is a small price to pay to keep his people from starving.

After the meeting, Robin sees Marian enter as he leaves. She’s worrying her lip again, and Robin realizes she must fear he’s told her father of her actions after all, despite his assurance he wouldn’t. He winks at her to show he didn’t tell, but otherwise doesn’t turn his attention away from his discussion with Lord Philips about the small festival they usually hold this time a year. Philips wishes to cancel it on account of the poor harvest, but Robin is determined to change his mind. Yes, they’ll not be able to spare as much resources on the festival as they otherwise would, but after the harsh winter, their people could more than use the merriment.

It takes some arguing, but Robin eventually convinces Philips to hold the festival. He’s quite pleased with this accomplishment.

Robin doesn’t give Marian much thought after that. He spares an idle musing or two whenever he sees her in the castle, more because of the way she watches him like a hawk than anything else, but nothing more. He has, in fact, mostly put their encounter out of his mind.

This changes when she corners him in an empty hallway.

“Sir Robin, I wish to speak with you.”

Robin raises an amused brow at the imperious way she delivers this request.

“And what is it you wish to speak to me about, Lady Marian?” he asks, curious.

“I fear it is a private matter, one I would not feel comfortable discussing in public,” she returns, her chin held high and her hands folded neatly in front of her skirts, looking as regal als Queen Eleanor herself.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize what she is referring to.

“Well, I can hardly refuse a lady’s request, now can I?” he returns with a charming smile, before offering her his arm with flourish. “Lead the way, Lady Marian.”

Marian lays her hand on his arm and leads him through the castle with a grace more suitable for a lady twice her age.

There is nothing ladylike about the way she drags him into an abandoned servant corridor. Robin could have easily broken free of her grip of course, but still. For a eleven year old, she is surprisingly strong.

“I wish for you to teach me sword fighting,” she declares the instant the door closes behind them. While Robin was expecting her to bring up their previous meeting, he wasn’t expecting a demand such as this.

“...Why do you wish for me to teach you this?” he asks, not knowing what else to say in response to this unexpected turn of events.

“Because I wish to learn sword fighting,” Marien replies with a look that makes clear she considers him a complete fool for asking that.

“Yes, but why do you want _me_ to teach you,” he clarifies. “Surely there are others more qualified?”

Marian bites down her lip and lowers her gaze, previous confidence gone.

“...No one will teach me. I’m not supposed to fight, I’m a _girl_.” She spits out that last as though it is the vilest of insults, before lifting her head and giving him a look that is equal part determined and pleading. “You’re the only one who didn’t get mad after seeing me fight. And you gave me advice and you didn’t tell Father or anyone else and I don’t– I don’t know who else to ask,” she finishes in a voice that breaks. Robin feels highly uncomfortable as her eyes turn glassy with the threat of tears. Fortunately, she doesn’t start crying.

He supposes it makes sense that no one will teach her. He thought that being the Sheriff’s daughter would grant her some leeway on the rules of propriety, but apparently not. And yes, it’s true that women aren’t supposed to fight, but, well. It’s not as though Robin has any right to comment on what is and isn’t proper for women to do.

Robin is torn. On one hand, he has no desire to teach her. He already has so little leisure time left. On the other hand, he does want to help her. He still remembers being a child and realizing how fortunate he was for being raised a boy. How fortunate he was for being allowed to fight.

...Now there’s an idea.

“I will teach you on one condition,” he says. Marian’s eyes widen with shock, before she gains a giddy smile she quickly tries to suppress.

“Anything,” she vows. That, more than anything else, makes clear just how desperate she is.

Feeling mischievous, Robin gives her as grave a look as he can manage. It makes Marian lose her smile and square her shoulders, attempting to hide her rising concern.

“In return for teaching you sword fighting,” Robin says in his most solemn voice and resists the urge to grin when Marian starts worrying her lip again. “You will teach me embroidery.”

It’s quite satisfying to watch Marian’s expression turn blank as she tries and fails to process what he just said. When she does understand, she scrunches her nose, her confusion even greater than before.

“You... want to learn embroidery?” she returns, hesitant and uncertain. Robin finally allows his grin to break through.

“I do,” he confirms. He’s wanted to learn for years but no one is willing to teach him. Not even Nanna. She taught him sewing so he can adjust his clothes to hide his figure, but she refuses to teach him anything beyond that. She worries people will realize he is also a woman is they see him do something so feminine.

“But why?” Marian returns, baffled in a rather humorous way.

“Because I wish to learn embroidery,” he replies while mimicking her own insulting expression from before. The indignant glare she gives in return makes him chuckle. “If you don’t want to teach me–”

“No!” she interrupts with sudden panic. “I do! I’ll teach you! _If_ you teach me sword fighting in return,” she finishes with a fierce expression, small fists clutching her skirt tightly. Robin replies with a solemn nod.

“Deal.”

His agreement makes Marian light up, a wide grin splitting her face.

“Deal!” she almost squeals. Robin can’t help but grin back, infected by her sheer joy.

This will be interesting.

* * *

 

He’s more right than he knows. Teaching Marian is very interesting indeed.

Part of that is because he can only teach her in stolen moments, and most important of all, in places kept out of sight of everyone. Though this last turns out to be surprisingly easy to accomplish. Marian knows the castle like the back of hand, not a nook or cranny unknown. She also knows all the routines of the servants, expertly avoiding the corridors in use by them. Finding places to practice poses no challenge at all to her. It also has the pleasant side effect of Robin learning the castle more intimately than he could ever have imagined. The risk of being late for the Council lessens drastically.

The main reason teaching Marian turns out to be interesting, is because she is unexpectedly talented. She improves in leaps and bounds, and it’s more satisfying than expected to see her grow. She’s also surprisingly creative, and after she reaches a level where they can start sparring, she reveals herself to be as agile as a fox. She uses her surroundings to the fullest in a way he has never seen anyone else do, throwing things to distract him and scrambling up high so she can attack him from above. Not to mention that she is inordinately fond of tumbles and cartwheels.

Sparring with her is a lot of fun. She’s already keeping him on his toes in a way no one else does. Give it a few years and a growth spurt or three, and she’ll be a true challenge.

As for his own lessons of embroidery, those aren’t as pleasant as expected by far. Embroidery requires a precision and delicacy that Robin isn’t used to. Given that he already knows how to sew, he thought embroidery would be easy to learn.

To his displeasure, embroidery and sewing are not the same. At all.

It makes him frustrated and often causes him to lose his patience. Which he then takes out on Marian, to his later shame and regret. Fortunately, Marian isn’t hurt by his displays of temper, merely meets him head on with equal fierceness. Which only makes his mood even worse and causes their arguments to blow up even bigger. Fortunately, their arguments cause no lasting damage to their friendship.

Because Marian is a friend. One who grows more dear to him the more time he spends with her. She’s smart and witty, and never shies away from saying what she is thinking. Oh, when she’s around other people, she will temper her sharp tongue, for people dismiss her entirely if she doesn’t. But when they are alone, Marian says exactly what she feels like saying, with no regard whatsoever for propriety. It’s a shame other people seem incapable of appreciating her spirit.

Still, despite the pleasant company, embroidery is a lot less fun than he thought it would be.

This changes when he starts thinking of it as archery instead of sewing. Archery isn’t about shooting arrows. Or rather, shooting an arrow is the result of a hundred small steps that come before, each as important as the one that came before. It’s about keeping his breathing steady, grounding his footing, adjusting his posture, accounting for the wind, calculating the force with which to pull the strong and so much more. It’s about being patient and remaining centered no matter what.

Embroidery is much the same. He cannot force the end result to appear and trying to do so only causes failure. Instead, he must focus on each individual stitch, every single one an end goal all on its own. Each one as important as the steps leading up to firing an arrow.

After he comes to this realization, Robin starts improving rapidly. He’s still nowhere near Marian’s level of skill, but now he feels satisfied with his work in a way he didn’t before.

For months, this is how things go. He teaches Marian to fight and she teaches him embroidery. It’s fun and fulfilling, easily his most favorite way to spend leisure time aside from archery.

One year after their lessons start, Robin’s world changes forever.

* * *

 

“You’re a woman.”

Robin chokes on the water he’d been drinking, coughing harshly and mind racing with blind panic because how does she know, how did she find out, what gave him away?

“I’m _right_.” Marian’s supremely satisfied proclamation makes him realize that she doesn’t, in fact, know that he is a woman. At least, not for certain.

Robin, after he stops trying to cough his lungs up, gives her his most incredulous look. He doesn’t even have to fake it, is unable to believe that she has somehow figured out his most closely guarded secret.

“How in the world did you come to this utterly absurd conclusion?” he demands as though her statement is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. Another thing he doesn’t have to fake. Hearing someone refer to him as a woman is without a doubt the oddest thing he has ever experienced. Even Nanna never calls him that, only talks about it in roundabout ways.

Unfortunately, his question only makes Marian’s smile grow even more satisfied, as pleased as a cat in a granary.

“There were many things. The most important was when I hit your chest and you yelled with pain far greater than I have ever seen from a man when hit there. Yet when I kicked you between the legs, you were hurt far _less_ than I have ever seen from a man. You also have no facial hair, despite being sixteen winters old already. And finally, you are far too pretty to be a man.”

Robin blinks rapidly as he processes al she has said, before he opens his mouth to discredit every single one of those arguments. To his horror, all that escapes him is a strangled sound that most definitely isn’t a squeak. He hastily clears this throat and tries again.

“I find it rather offensive you think all men react the same to being attacked in those places,” he says with a teasing smile, attempting to act normal. “I find it even more insulting you think my lack of facial hair so unusual. Some men don’t grow any until they are twenty years of age. Though it is flattering to know you think me exceptionally pretty,” he finishes and gives what he finds to be a very convincing chuckle.

“You’re an awful liar,” Marian returns with a grin, making his smile falter. Realizing he’ll not be able to summon another one, he scowls with annoyance instead. Given the circumstances, this is an expression he has no trouble summoning.

“Being an awful liar would require me to lie. I don’t lie.” He truly doesn’t. He keeps secrets and he bends the truth when necessary, but he doesn’t lie. Ever.

“Then are you not a woman?” Marian counters as though there is but one possible answer.

Robin is so relieved to prove her wrong.

“I am a man.”

His relief grows when Marian blinks with surprise, before her nose scrunches up with confusion.

“...You aren’t lying,” she says slowly, bewildered by her own conclusion. Robin gives a pleased smile back, so glad the danger is over.

“Indeed I’m not.” He is a man. Not a normal man, true, but a man nonetheless.

Marian purses her lips with annoyance, before she gives him a stubborn look.

“Say you aren’t a woman.”

Robin’s smile drops.

“What?” he asks, confused and worried by her demand. He thought this would be enough to convince her that he’s not a woman, but it seems his assumption was wrong.

This isn’t good.

“Say you aren’t a woman,” Marian repeats, regaining her previous confidence. This isn’t good at all.

Robin hesitates for the briefest of moments. But if he wants to keep his secret, he will have to lie.

So he does.

“I’m not a woman.”

“You’re lying!” Marian exclaims triumphantly and Robin quickly masks the burst of terror her words inspire. He raises an unimpressed brow instead.

“I’m starting to think you can’t actually tell when I’m lying and are just deciding when I am for your own convenience.”

Marian scoffs, confidence in no way diminished.

“No, you really are an awful liar. And you lied about not being a woman.”

As Robin struggles to contain his panic, Marian frowns with confusion.

“But you weren’t lying about being a man. How is that possible?”

“Just what makes you so certain that I’m lying?” Robin snaps, ignoring her question as his fear causes his temper to flare. His harsh tone makes Marian startle, before she scowls and looks at him like he is a fool, as she always does when she considers him to be acting irrationally.

It only makes him even more agitated.

“Your hands twitch like you want to hold your bow, you shift your weight as though bracing for an attack, and you get this furrow between your eyes you never get except when lying.”

Robin gives her a fierce glare. First of all, she’s implying that he lies often and he _doesn’t_. Second of all, she needs to _stop thinking he is a woman_.

“I’m not a woman.”

“Yes you are,” Marian snaps back, making panic overtake all else because she can’t know, no one can know, this will ruin everything –

“I’m not a woman!”

Robin only realizes he has jumped to his feet when Marian rears back and he’s clenching the waterskin he still hasn’t let go of and he’s breathing hard, is barely aware of the way Marian’s eyes widen with dawning realization because she knows, everyone will know and he doesn’t know what they’ll do to him but he does know they’ll take his lands away, take his people away and –

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

It takes a moment for the words to pierce the terror clouding his mind. When they do, Robin stops breathing, before all the air escapes him in a near painful rush of relief.

“You’re not?” he asks in a voice far weaker than intended but Robin doesn’t care about that, only cares about the assurance that she won’t tell, that his secret is safe.

He only cares that his people won’t be taken away from him.

“Of course not,” Marian says while attempting to look at him like he is a fool but she looks far too gentle for it to succeed.

Robin’s legs give out beneath him, dropping down the floor as relief overwhelms all else because she won’t tell, his secret his safe, his lands are safe.

His people won’t be taken away from him.

Robin takes a shuddering breath, blinking back sudden tears. A few still escape him despite his best effort. Robin buries his head into his hands to hide them. Unfortunately, this only makes more escape.

When he feels Marian’s hand on his shoulder, he takes a few deep breaths and forces himself to stop crying. Wiping his cheeks, he lifts his head to see her look at him with concern, worrying her lip as she always does when nervous.

“Thank you,” he chokes out in a far too weak voice. Robin clears his throat and repeats himself more strongly, needing to express his gratitude. “Thank you, Marian.”

“You’re welcome,” Marian returns in a subdued voice. Robin manages to summon a small smile, before taking a fortifying breath and composing himself to a semblance of normal.

“Right. We should resume training.”

Marian hesitates and Robin fears she’ll bring up the fact that he is a woman once more. While he no longer fears she’ll reveal his secret, he has no desire to continue this conversation. Not right now. He’s far too wound up for that, still agitated and ill at ease, though in a different way than before. He feels vulnerable, raw and exposed in the most uncomfortable of ways.

He doesn’t wish to talk about this.

Robin is so glad when Marian drops the topic.

“All right”, she agrees to his proposal. They waste no further time in starting up another spar, and while it lacks their usual banter, it still helps him relax.

And if he is a little too ferocious in attacking her, well. Marian voices no complaint, merely meets his strikes with equal fervor.

Yet despite regaining a semblance of normality, Robin cannot help but remain afraid. Not about the possibility that his secret will become known, but about his friendship with Marian. He’s convinced that it will change for the worse.

Except it doesn’t. There is some awkwardness between them at first, but it isn’t anything major. Neither bring up the subject again by unspoken agreement, though the silence is almost as noticeable as though they had brought it up again. Yet as time passes, the awkwardness disappears, both of them returning to their normal behavior of teasing one another. Robin is so relieved to put this entire thing behind him.

He should have known better than to think Marian would give up on her curiosity so easily.

* * *

 

“How can you be both man and woman?”

Robin’s head snaps up – he hisses in pain, eyes snapping back down as he snatches his hand away from to prevent blood from staining his work.

“You are a sadistic little witch,” he curses with a glare, lifting his hand to suck the blood out of the wound caused by Marian’s fondness for distracting him at the worst possible time. Most of the time he pricks his hand it doesn’t hurt, courtesy of his thick calluses, but this time he’d stabbed himself in the tender flesh between his ring and middle finger.

“And you need to learn to remain focused no matter your surroundings,” Marian returns primly, her tone belied by the satisfied grin she wears.

“If someone didn’t enjoy distracting me so much, I would,” he counters with a look as pointed as his voice, but he cannot help an involuntary smile, amused by her mischievousness.

“How else are you supposed to learn?” Marian asks with false innocence, making him chuckle. Which will only encourage her to continue her behavior, of course. Not that Robin truly minds. She’s right, he needs to be able to keep his focus no matter what. But while embroidery is similar to archery, he is incapable of losing himself in it as completely as he does when holding Father’s bow, or even when fighting.

“You just enjoy seeing me suffer,” he teases with mock hurt.

“And you are avoiding the question.”

Robin grimaces. The longer Marian knows him, the easier she sees through him. Normally he doesn’t mind that, but in this case...

“The polite thing for you to do would be to change the subject,” he retorts in an admittedly sullen way. Not wishing to see Marian’s reaction to his words, he examines the damage to his work instead. He’s pulled the last stitch too tight in his startelement, creasing the fabric together.

“I’m just curious,” Marian says with an audible pout, though of course she’d deny it if he were to bring it up. Marian of Knighton does not _pout_.

Under normal circumstances, Robin would have happily teased her about the pout she is most definitely wearing. As it is, he carefully sets out to undo the damage to his work as best he can. He’s currently working on a new purse he bought, a simple and plain thing. Until Marian broke their unspoken agreement not to talk about this subject, he’d been enjoying decorating it.

Marian lets out a sigh of equal parts annoyance and resignation.

“Fine, I’ll not ask again. For now.”

That last makes Robin lift his head to give her an unimpressed look. Marian raises a prim brow in return, wordlessly telling him he should be grateful she is gracious enough to offer even a temporary respite. Normally, Robin would be amused by that.

Not this time.

He resumes his work in silence.

It’s an uncomfortable silence.

“...I really won’t tell anyone, you know.”

Marian’s statement, half hesitant and half offended, makes him sigh with annoyance. The worst part is that he doesn’t even know who he is annoyed with, her or himself. Perhaps he is annoyed with them both.

“I know that, I just...” Robin falls silent, struggling to put into words just why this topic makes him so uncomfortable. When he fails to come up with a suitable explanation, he lowers his gaze, once more not wishing to see her reaction. “I’ve never talked about this before.”

“With anyone? Surely some people must know.”

Marian’s incredulous statement makes him shrug, feeling even more uncomfortable than before.

“Edith knows, she used to be my dry nurse. Father knew as well, but no one else.” Robin ignores the habitual pang those words inspire, focusing on his work instead. Even after all this time, it still hurts a little to speak of Father. He thinks it always will.

“...You never talked about this with them?”

Robin halts his work with a sigh. Clearly, Marian will not let this go until her curiosity is satisfied.

“Edith explains all the things a woman must know, but we don’t talk about the fact that she explains these things because I am a woman as well. And Father... we spoke about it, once, when I first discovered I was a woman. Never after.”

Maybe they would have, had Father lived.

He didn’t, so it is pointless to wonder. Pointless to hurt himself by thinking of Father.

“You didn’t know you were a woman?”

This time, Robin is glad for the question and the distraction it offers.

“I found out when I was seven years old. I saw another boy unclothed and the difference in his body and mine is what led to the discovery that I’m a woman as well.”

It feels so strange to call himself a woman out loud. He never has before.

“But how could you not know?” Marian’s bafflement makes a small smile grow. She doesn’t like to hear it, but she looks adorable with her nose scrunched up like that. She only ever does it when she’s confused.

“Everyone told me I was a boy and since I had never seen another unclothed, I had no reason to think I was a girl,” he explains. Marian crinkles her nose even further, making his smile grow.

“...So you were born a girl but raised a boy,” Marian says slowly, brow furrowed with intense concentration. She’s acting as though this is one of the oddest things she has ever heard.

Admittedly, hearing his situation described out loud, Robin can agree that is a very odd one indeed. At the same time, it’s normal. It had been confusing when he’d first discovered the truth of it as well, but that was a long time ago. He’s known that he is a woman most of his life.

“Yes,” he agrees simply, for that truly does sum up his upbringing.

“Then aren’t you a woman pretending to be a man?”

“No.” The denial is firm and spoken without thought. He is a woman, yes, but that doesn’t make him any less a man. “I am a man. I simply happen to be a woman as well.”

It feels... strangely liberating to say so out loud. He never has before. While Robin has always been confident in who he is, saying the words soothes a tension he hadn’t even been aware was there.

“But your body is that of a woman. Pretending to be a man doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not _pretending_ to be anything,” he snaps, incredibly insulted by her dismissal of his words. The fierceness of his retort makes Marian startle, before she gives a heated scowl back, meeting his anger head on as always.

“Your body is that of a woman, so you are a woman,” she declares like there is no other possibility.

“My mind is that of a man, so I am a man,” he counters with a glare.

“But that makes no sense!” she exclaims with annoyance and frustration, making his own aggravation grow. “Just because you think you’re a man doesn’t mean you are a man.”

“You mean like how you thinking you’re skilled with a blade doesn’t actually mean you are?”

Robin regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth, even before Marian flinches, hurt in a way she so rarely is. This is one of the few things she feels genuinely uncertain about. Which is why he spoke the falsehood. Not because it’s true, but because in his anger, he wished to hurt her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he apologizes. Marian’s bottom lip wobbles with the threat of tears, making him even more ashamed of his behavior.

“Obviously I know you didn’t mean them, you are an awful liar,” she says in a voice that comes out far smaller than she intended. She rallies herself, jutting out her chin and giving him a stubborn glare. “I _am_ skilled with a blade.”

“You are,” he confirms without hesitation, holding her gaze as he tries to impress his sincerity on her. “You’re already far beyond your peers. I have no doubt that in a few years time, you will occasionally beat me.”

Marian scowls and Robin is glad to see the threat of tears vanish.

“ _Occasionally_ beat you?”

Robin answers her insulted demand with his most charming smile.

“Don’t take it so personally. I am exceptional at sword fighting, after all.” He’s exceptional at everything he puts his mind to really, but especially so at all forms of fighting. The only thing he’s better at is archery.

Marian glares and juts out her chin with determination.

“One day I will make you eat those words,” she vows as she always does when the discrepancy in their level of skill comes up.

“Of course you will,” Robin patronizes with a smile, relieved to see her return to normal. Marian very maturely sticks her tongue out, making Robin chuckle. But then Marian hesitates, her previous uncertainty returning.

“...Do you really think I’m a good fighter?”

“I think you’re an amazing one,” he replies, speaking nothing but the truth. He wishes she could spar against boys her age, so she could see for herself just how exceptional she is. Unfortunately, that isn’t possible. And while Robin could pretend to lose to her, admitting defeat is one of the few things he is truly awful at. Not that Marian would want him to pretend to lose. She would, in fact, be incredibly insulted and angry with him. She doesn’t want him to _let_ her win, she wants to _win_. It’s one of the things Robin admires most about her.

Marian gains a smile as shy as it is delighted, her uncertainty soothed away by his words.

“If you think you are a man, I will call you a man.”

The words inspire equal parts fondness and exasperation. Fondness, because this is Marian’s way of extending an olive branch and Robin truly is grateful for that. Exasperation, because not only is she still acting like he is pretending to be a man, she’s acting as though he needs her permission to do so.

“Your kindness knows no bounds,” he teases instead of pointing those things out. He has no desire to restart their argument.

Marian’s smile grows, amusement rising at his teasing, before she lifts her chin and gives him a haughty look.

“It’s true, I am exceptionally generous.”

“So modest, too,” he returns with a grin. Marian laughs, ruining her haughty act.

“You, Robin of Locksley, have not the slightest right to accuse anyone of arrogance.”

“Marian of Knighton, I’m hurt. Here I am, complimenting your humility, yet you act as though I’m accusing you of arrogance.”

“However could I have gotten that impression.”

Robin laughs, their banter erasing the last traces of his anger. After a few more qups, Marian orders him to resume his needlework. He’ll never finish it if they spend all their time making jokes, after all.

With a chuckle, Robin does as he’s told.

The silence that follows is comfortable. It used to be that Marian had to correct him every few stitches, but by now, much of their embroidery lessons is spend in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional bout of banter. Normally, Robin enjoys that, but this time...

“I really am a man, you know.” He delivers the words without halting his work, eyes still locked onto his needle. While he has no desire to restart their argument, he cannot let this topic go. Not when Marian believes he is only pretending to be a man.

“I’ll not stop you from thinking so,” Marian replies and while Robin knows she feels the statement to be a kind one, he still lifts his head to give her an unimpressed look. He doesn't think he is a man, he is a man. Robin wishes he knew how to make that clear to her.

After nine more stitches, he gains an idea on how to accomplish this.

“Can you imagine we wearing a dress?”

The startled giggle Marian lets out is all the answer he needs.

“No, of course not,” she confirms.

“Why not?” he asks, eyes still locked onto his needle.

“Because you’re– oh.”

This time Robin lifts his head with a grin, satisfied to have made his point.

“Exactly.”

Marian purses her lips, before she nods to herself in a way that shows she’s come to a decision.

“So you are an even stranger man than you already seemed to be.”

Robin lets out a startled laugh, caught off guard by her confident proclamation. He’s also oddly touched by it.

Marian believes him to be a man.

“And you are just as strange a girl as you have always been,” he teases. Marian replies with a haughty look, one belied by the smile attempting to break free.

“Compared to you, I am the very image of propriety.”

“You are indeed very good at pretending to be a proper lady,” he agrees. Marian replies with a huff as prim as would be expected from the lady she pretends to be. Then she lets out a dejected sigh that isn’t faked at all.

“I wish I was a boy.”

Robin hesitates. This isn’t the first time Marian has expressed this desire. He understands why she feels this way. Marian isn’t cut out for the life of a lady.

“You would be an amazing boy,” he finally offers, the same thing he always says when she brings this up. Not the most comforting of things to say, but Robin doesn’t know how else to react. What else can he say to something that cannot be changed?

Marian gives him a wistful look he has never seen from her before.

“I wish I’d been raised a boy like you.”

Robin could talk about the disadvantages being both man and woman brings. The constant need to hide, the underlying fear of discovery that never really goes away. The dislike of his own body, the way he sometimes feels so uncomfortable in his own skin.

Compared to the freedom being a man gives, those complaints seem childish.

“You'd have to cut your hair,” he quips instead, acting like normal in an attempt to make Marian feel better.

It works. Marian lets out a horrified gasp and brings up her hands to cover her long locks protectively. She’s hilariously vain about her hair. Not without reason. Her hair is beautiful.

“I take it back, I don’t wish I’d been raised a boy at all,” she proclaims dramatically, though of course she’d deny it were he to bring it up. Which is why Robin does exactly that.

“How dramatic.”

Marian scowls, her previous dejection gone completely. Robin gives her his most charming smile, relieved she is feeling better.

“I am not dramatic,” she declares. Robin replies with an indulgent look, already braced for the reaction it will inspire.

As expected, Marian punches his arm with perfect form, though not as hard as she is capable of by far.

“You are an awful man, Robin of Locksley.”

“I think you mean charming and witty,” he counters with a grin, warmed by her words.

She called him a man.

Marian maturely sticks her tongue out, before she loses the fight against her giggles. The heavy mood from before has officially passed.

The rest of their time together passes by as it usually does. Comfortable silence broken by the occasional banter. Still, something has changed.

Marian believes him to be a man. A man who is also a woman, but still a man.

Marian is the greatest friend he could ever hope to ask for.

* * *

 

A few months later, Robin’s life changes forever. He and Marian have commandeered a storage room for sparring, as is usual.

What isn’t usual is the viciousness Marian attacks him with.

“Are you willing to tell me what’s wrong yet?” he asks after winning another bout.

Marian attempts to light him on fire with the force of her glare. She’s in an awful mood.

“And just what makes you so certain anything is wrong?” she returns in her most derisive voice, the one that makes it seem as though she believes him to be worse than manure sticking to her footwear. Robin replies with a raised brow, silently pointing out her answer alone is evidence enough of there being something wrong. Just to be sure, he follows it up with a pointed glance at the teeth marks decorating his hand, red and angry. She’d almost drawn blood with that.

Marian’s glare grows even fiercer. Then, without warning, her expression crumbles, her bottom lip wobbling as tears fill her eyes. Before Robin can start to panic, Marian bursts out crying.

Robin is horrified.

“What’s wrong,” he demands while moving closer to her, absently putting aside his practice sword. Which leaves him with two hands to flounder around instead of one but he doesn’t know what to do because Marian is sobbing her heart out and she’s hurt and _what’s wrong?_

How can he help?

“Lord Berkely asked Father for my hand in marriage and Father said no but he’s not going to say no forever and _I don’t want to get married!_ ”

That last comes out a wail loud enough to make Robin wince, but he is far more focused on getting Marian to halt her crying.

“You won’t be married for years yet,” he says in a voice that comes out far more desperate than intended but he doesn’t care. Anything to get rid of Marian’s tears.

“But I will be eventually,” she wails, burying her head in her hands and her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “And then I won’t be able to fight anymore because my husband won’t allow it, and I’ll have to live at his house and I won’t be able to meet you anymore and _it isn’t fair_.”

Robin plans to pint out how ridiculous that notion is. Of course they’ll still meet up and of course she’ll still be able to fight. They’ll just have to be even more careful about it than they already are.

“We could get married,” is what comes out of his mouth instead.

Marian’s sobbing lessens in force. She lifts her head and looks at him with confusion, her eyes red and swollen and her cheeks wet with tears, new ones falling down as he watches, though not as many as before. Part of Robin is so relieved to have at least lessened her crying.

Most of him is hit with the brilliance of his own idea.

“What?” Marian asks.

“We should get married,” he says, kneeling down in front of her and grasping her hands while holding her gaze in order to emphasize the importance of his words. “Think about it, it’s perfect! You already know I’m a woman, I wouldn’t need to hide from you. And you’ll be able to practise sword fighting and everything else out in the open! If your husband allows you to do so, no one can order you to stop.”

Marian’s eyes widen with realization, her expression brightening as she realizes just how perfect this plan is. Then her expression crashes with disappointment.

“We cannot get married. You wouldn’t be able to give me children.”

“We’ll foster,” Robin returns, his chest tightening with a painful amount of hope. He can’t foster children officially on his own, but if he had a wife and they had trouble conceiving, he could. He could take in children not his blood and name them his heirs.

He wouldn’t lose Father’s lands.

Marian’s breath catches, hope warring with disbelief. Robin understands. This seems too easy, offering an answer to all their problems. All they need to do is marry.

“Marian of Knighton, marry me,” he pleads, his heart pounding hard enough he expects it to burst out of his chest any moment now.

Marian opens her mouth and closes it without saying anything. Robin is convinced the suspense is causing him true physical harm.

“Yes.”

The whisper is soft enough he almost doesn’t catch it.

“Yes?” he returns, needing to know he heard her right, that she really agreed to marry him.

“Yes,” Marian repeats more strongly, a giddy smile starting to grow. “I will marry you, Robin of Locksley.”

Robin laughs, overwhelmed by joy, and then Marian is laughing as well and throwing her arms around him in a hug and Robin hugs her back and spins her around because they’re going to get married! All their problems will be solved!

Robin is happier than he can ever remember being.

* * *

 

Later, after he’s returned home and night has fallen, Robin prepares for bed as usual.

Unlike usual, he doesn’t immediately put on his night clothes. Instead he goes to the looking glass and examines his body.

It’s not a bad body. Far from it. His shoulders are broad and thick from archery, and he has both the muscles that come from working hard and the fat that comes from eating well. His thighs are strong from horse riding, and his stomach has a cushion that shows just how far he is from starving. He’s slender and his hips are a little too wide, true, but overall, his body is an attractive one.

His chest is bound. After a moment of hesitation, Robin unbinds it. Then he takes off his underpants.

Normally he tries to avoid the sight of his naked body. Tries to avoid the reminder that he will never be able to have a normal life.

Except he will be able to. He’s going to marry Marian. They’re going to be Lord and Lady of Locksley. They’re going to foster children, they’re going to have heirs.

He won’t lose Father’s lands.

Robin looks at himself, at the image that reveals him for what he is. He is a man.

For the first time in years, Robin doesn’t mind that he is a woman as well.

After marveling at the complete lack of discomfort he feels while seeing his bare body a little longer, Robin puts on his night clothes. He goes to bed with a smile, feeling at ease in a way he hasn’t felt since he was a child.

Marian is going to marry him. Oh, he needs to gain the approval of her father first of course, but Robin doesn’t foresee any problems there. Sheriff Edward likes him. Robin just needs to ask for Marian’s hand and then they will be officially betrothed.

What could go wrong with something as simple as that?

**Author's Note:**

> I started watching BBC's Robin Hood (because Richard Armitage in black leather) and this is the result. Depending on the whims of my muse, I might continue this, but maybe not. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos brighten my day, comments even more so :)
> 
> My [tumblr](https://loekas.tumblr.com/)


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